


Subconscious

by mallerina7



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandonment, Dark, Depression, Loneliness, Longing, M/M, Unfulfilled Love, no immediate happy ending - but bear with me!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8828563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallerina7/pseuds/mallerina7
Summary: Harry, still suffering from terrible nightmares after the war, seeks help by the person with the greatest knowledge of the human mind in Hogwarts: Severus Snape. But a short trip into the potion master's mind leaves him with something completely different to chew on...





	1. Chapter 1

_It was one of these days again. Harry Potter was standing in front of Professor Snape's office doors down in the Dungeons. He would never have thought that it would come to this again. It made him think back to his fifth year here at Hogwarts. He had dreaded those Occlumency lessons back then, as much as he dreaded this now. So many things had changed – but some things probably never would..._

 

Hogwarts was a mess. After the war had ended four months ago, the castle had been rebuilt, but the work was still in progress. It was a huge construction site, you always had to be on the lookout for something to fall onto your head or to trip over.

A long teachers' conference had been held, and it had been decided to give all former seventh years the chance to complete their education properly – meaning that there were now twice as many students in the final classes.

Though it had been clear for Ron and Hermione to come back, it hadn't been for Harry. He had hesitated, unsure if he would be able to face Hogwarts and the mass of students for another year. After all that had happened, the school had lost its warmth and didn't feel like home anymore. But on the other hand, Harry didn't know what else to do – and to be separated from his friends and only family in the world, to sit in his house in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, all alone with only Kreacher by his side, not knowing what to do with his life – that had seemed much worse.

And then, a few days right after the start of term, it had happened: Severus Snape had returned.

Harry had seen him dying in the Shrieking Shack. But somehow he must have survived – maybe he had been prepared for an attack and had the antidote for Nagini's venom with him. Unnoticed, he must have escaped the shack, and so his body had never been found.

He had been believed to be dead, though, and there had even been a funeral for him. Professor McGonagall had taken a heartbreaking speech, Hermione had been crying, and Harry had felt some real sympathy for the bad-tempered potions master.

Where Snape had been hiding during these last few weeks, nobody knew. He just entered the Great Hall for breakfast one day in September. That made quite a splash, and the newspapers were full of it for the next two weeks. Professor Slughorn decided to happily resign, again, and Snape was back in his dungeons.

Harry had been thinking about talking to Snape – but he wasn't sure what to say. Just to say thank you seemed to be not enough. So both agreed in mutual silence and – despite all that had happened during the last year – they finally resumed their usual animosity. Snape seemed to have gotten even angrier and more spiteful than before. At least some constancy, Harry thought.

And Harry really had enough other things on his mind to cope with now. Not only was it very difficult if not impossible for him to find back into some normal routine – Harry also seemed to fail at everything. He couldn't concentrate and received mostly bad grades. He hardly ever slept through the night, and his dreams were filled with war, blood, angst, terror, loss... and even though his connection to Voldemort hat been cut with his death, there seemed to be a flood of the Dark Lord's thoughts and memories that had found their way into Harry's subconscious. Now that the pressure from the outside had gone, it all seemed to come up, and every other night he wandered around as Voldemort, doomed to relive his most evil killings and curses, his plans, his fantasies...

The worst thing though was that no one wanted to talk about the past anymore. Harry felt he needed to talk, that it would give him some kind of relief or closure. But Hermione and Ron were a couple now, and it looked like they had a lot to catch up on. Hermione at least tried to be supportive on some occasions, but she mostly just told him to relax and to let go. It wasn't that easy.

Then there was Ginny. Harry and Ginny were together again, and there had been a slight climax in their intimacy right after the war had ended, when Harry had proposed to her. She had agreed to marry him, but ever since that day, Harry felt like whatever he did or said, it simply wasn't enough. She wanted to lose her virginity, and Harry had agreed on having sex without really wanting it. He felt too vulnerable to really open up and enjoy it. Therefore it wasn't exactly the best first-time experience for both. They hardly discussed anything personal anymore after that, and each time he tried to talk about one of his nightmares, she found an excuse to go.

It seemed like everybody just wanted to forget the war.

Over the first few weeks of the term, the nightmares got worse. And it didn't just happen in his dreams now that he slipped into Voldemort's memories, it also happened during exhausting lessons or when he tried to relax. People had started staring at him again since he had screamed out loud "No, don't hurt them, don't kill them!" during breakfast last week while reliving a particularly cruel memory of the Dark Lord in which he killed a muggle family. It was then that Harry decided it was time to act. He was about to lose it.

So one day in October, he found himself sitting in the headmistress' office. He had finally found the courage to talk to Professor McGonagall about it. She was now pacing in front of the big window behind her desk.

"So, Potter... you say these dreams started a few weeks ago?"

"Yes. I didn't worry about it much, in the beginning, I mean, there have been fragments of his thoughts and experiences in my dreams for years now. But it's getting more and more intense. I've never been so deep into Voldemort's mind before. I can see his memories now very clearly... his plans... and it's like I am him, like I am doing all these terrible things. It's like he is still alive somewhere inside of me - "

"Mr Potter, the Dark Lord is dead. There is no way that he is still alive."

"I know that! But these dreams...why am I having them? I want them to go away."

Professor McGonagall started pacing again. Then she stopped in front of the window, looking out into the clouded sky, and over the grounds and the dark forest.

"I can only come up with one solution, Potter, but I think it is one that could help you. You won't like it, though."

 

_Repeating McGonagall's last words in his mind, Harry was still standing in front of the potions master's door, dreading to knock. But there was really no other option that he could think of, and he needed this to stop. It couldn't get any worse, could it?_


	2. Chapter 2

"You may come in."

Harry opened the door. He remembered every detail of this office from his Occlumency lessons and endless hours of detention over the past few years. It hadn't changed much since that time, it was still dark and moldy down here, jars with slimy objects all over the shelves, their number only small compared to the enormous amount of books. Snape was sitting behind his desk, not even looking up when Harry entered the room.

"Mr Potter. I have had a long discussion with Professor McGonagall in which we finally 'agreed' that I might be able to help you with coping with some _very_ bad nightmares of yours."

"They're not just nightmares – Professor." Harry already felt more than uncomfortable. It was like he was fifteen again.

"We will see." Snape looked up into Harry's face now, a smirk on his lips, trying to look beyond Harry's eyes and into his head. "But first, I will explain the procedure and the rules of these meetings to you, and you will listen carefully, can you manage that?"

"Yes, Sir." Harry tried to remain calm. Why Snape detested him so much, he could only guess. He had worked for the order as a double agent, had helped Harry to defeat Voldemort and had saved him several times, but obviously, he still loathed him as much as he had loathed his father James.

"Very well. To find the source of those dreams, I need to explore the depths of your subconscious. There are a few possible explanations for this phenomenon that I am currently aware of, and there will have to be done some testing. You could say that what we will be doing here today is quite the opposite of our very futile Occlumency lessons before the war. Therefore, it should be possible for you not to screw up completely this time. All you will have to do is not to reject me while I enter your mind. I must insist, however, that if you reject me on purpose, you might want to resume your search with the kind help of the St. Mungo Lunatic Asylum. I am doing you a favor here, again, and I expect you to be thankful and cooperative. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Sit down. And try to relax." Snape pointed to two chairs facing each other in the back of the office. Harry did as asked. He tried to calm down, but the prospect of Snape scrabbling about in his brain didn't help. Snape sat down across from him.

"You will just look into my eyes now, you can blink normally, but don't avert your gaze."

Snape's penetrating eyes didn't feel good, but Harry looked straight into them nevertheless. And looked...and looked. Finally, he could feel something. It was as if his thoughts became more spatial. It felt weird – he was somehow closer to his thoughts than usual, but he felt the presence of someone else inside his mind while he was bound to relive fragments of the last few days:

His discussion with Professor McGonagall... Hermione encouraging him to ask Snape for help... The way Ginny had looked at Michael Corner as he had made a joke at breakfast, how Michael had smiled back at her...

Suddenly, Harry's mind seemed to switch abruptly back in time on its own accord: back to the Hogwarts battle.

Sitting on the dusty ground, he felt tears running down his cheeks and a hot burn in his stomach, as he looked down at Fred Weasley, dead, the smile of his last joke still on his face.

His mind jumped farther back: to some good hours he had had with Ginny in his sixth year.

He felt her kisses, sweet and passionate, then her tongue on his neck. Her breasts in his hands felt warm and soft. As she opened his trousers, he felt an overwhelming arousal...

With a jerk, all warmth was gone.

He was moving, walking. Slow, controlled steps. It was twilight, and the landscape around him was snow-covered. The change of temperature was cruel. He looked down on a body that wasn't his: taller, thinner, and stronger. He was Lord Voldemort, and he was on the way to an old friend. He had been looking forward to this moment for a very long time. Anger filled his mind, and then a lust to kill, yet his pulse was low...

And then it was over. Snape had withdrawn from him, had closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked intrigued.

"There is no differentiation at all between your memories and his. Your brain treats them as the same. I will have to think about that. How do you feel?"

"I'm OK, I guess." Harry was shaking. The last feelings he had shared with Voldemort were still present.

"What did you feel during that short sequence about the Dark Lord?"

Harry didn't answer right away. He looked at the potions master, trying to avoid thinking about Voldemort. Another question was on his mind, and he had to ask.

"Professor, did you... did you share my feelings? I mean, can you feel what I feel while you're inside my head? Whatever I feel?" He was afraid what the older man would answer. He thought about Ginny and how clearly he had experienced her closeness.

Snape looked into his eyes, showing no emotion at all now. "Unfortunately, I have to witness all of it, whatever you see, hear, or feel. It is still quite overwhelming at the moment – it always is at the beginning, when I'm new to someone's way of thinking. And your mind is very messy – and very melodramatic, too – so it is quite possible, even for me, to miss something crucial." He paused to let that sink in.

"Now, if you please, describe again precisely what you felt in that last section of your thoughts."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry checked his watch – it was quarter past eleven. He tried to walk as quickly as possible back to the Gryffindor common room, but he was exhausted. It had been the fourth meeting with Snape within the last two weeks, and Snape had kept him longer every time. Not that Harry's condition had improved much, it was the other way round: the more often he witnessed Voldemort's thoughts in Snape's presence, the worse were his nightmares afterwards. But obviously Snape was up to something, and Harry still had no better idea what else to do about it. At least it seemed that Snape found their meetings interesting enough now and hadn't complained about 'doing Harry a favor' anymore.

Harry climbed through the portrait hole into the deserted common room, panting. In today's memory, Voldemort had killed two children with his snake Nagini, watching the scene with immense pleasure. Harry had had to fight against throwing up in Snape's office.

He fell into his favorite chair near the fireplace. It was not very cold outside, yet, but he felt a chill from the inside and also somewhat lost.

On their first meeting, Snape had promised to throw Harry out of his office if he ever rejected him on purpose. But he hadn't kept to that. Today, Harry had been so disgusted by what he had seen that he had simply wanted it to stop and – only half-conscious – he had used a spell against Snape. Harry had gotten a quick glimpse into the potions master's head. But Snape had not even shouted at him. It was weird...

The sun had already risen when Harry was shaken awake by Ron.

"Was it that late yesterday?"

"Yeah... I just wanted to sit down a bit. I must have fallen asleep." Drowsy, Harry looked around. The common room was filled with people chatting, playing games or doing homework – it was Saturday.

"All that noise didn't wake you up? Blimey, you must have been wiped out."

Harry didn't answer. Suddenly he sat bolt upright.

"What time is it?"

"About ten. But it's Saturday..."

"I gotta go, I have another appointment with Snape. Right now!"

"Again?"

But Harry couldn't hear him anymore, he already sprinted up to the dormitory to change.

At a quarter past ten, Harry arrived at the office, panting and sweating. Snape wasn't happy about his late arrival.

"I hope you do realize, Mr Potter, that I am spending my precious time here finding a solution for _your_ problem. I, therefore, expect you to appear ten minutes early from now on. I will not wait for you. Now, sit down, try to relax and open your mind. _You_ will have to wait now. I just received a message which requires an immediate answer. I will be back in a few minutes." And he left the room.

Harry still gasped for air as he sat down. He felt drowsy and exhausted, and they hadn't even started, yet. At least he had some time to calm down now. The room was hardly lit, and that made him feel even more sleepy. To distract himself, he started to look around in the office. He counted the few candles that lit the room – one, two, three, four – when he suddenly became aware of a faint, bluish flickering. He stood up and crossed the room. The highest cabinet door of a roomy cupboard was slightly ajar. Harry stretched to open it – and revealed a big Pensieve. It was filled with a swirling, silvery substance.

He instantly took a few steps back. This had happened before, and it hadn't been one of his best ideas to spy on his potions master back then. A very bad idea, indeed. On the other hand, he wondered what Snape might have wanted to hide from him, now that the war was over and Harry already knew so many of his secrets.

He only had a few moments to decide. He opened the office door and glanced around the corner. Snape was nowhere to be seen, so he probably had a few minutes. Just a brief look couldn't hurt.

He put down the Pensieve from the cupboard and dipped his head into the substance. He fell.

Moments later, he found himself standing in Snape's office – again. Disappointed, he turned on the spot to look around. The room looked slightly different from the real office, mostly because the shapes of the room and furniture shifted every now and then. Also, there was a weird kind of mist everywhere, so Harry couldn't see clearly.

He spotted two figures at the desk. He started to walk over to it, only discovering that the room had started to expand and already was much bigger now than the real office. Through the haze, he couldn't really make out the two people, but they stood close to each other and seemed to be naked. Curious, Harry started to run over to the desk while the room expanded more and more. As he finally managed to get closer, he could hear the two people's panting and moaning. He recognized the one in the front as Snape. The other person was also male, but much younger. Harry couldn't see his face, the young man stood bent over the desk, with his back to Snape. They were having sex, the potions master holding him tight. His face contorted with lust as he thrust into the younger, each thrust harder and faster, until finally, both climaxed.

Harry withdrew from the Pensieve, shocked. He could hear someone approaching outside, so he hastily pushed the Pensieve back into the cupboard and ran to his seat. Just in time.

Snape opened the door, absorbed in a long parchment in his hands. Luckily, he didn't even look up as he entered the room. Harry was still shocked and unable to conceal it.

"Unfortunately, Mr Potter, I will have to send you away. Something important has come up that requires my full attention. We will meet on Monday, 6 pm. You are released." Harry didn't have to be told twice.

Back in the common room, he immediately told Ron and Hermione in a low voice what he had done.

"You did what?" Hermione was staring at him, her mouth open. "After what happened last time... You're betraying his trust! You can't afford to be sent away, you need his help."

"Calm down, he didn't catch me, OK? I know it was stupid..."

"So what did you see?" Ron seemed to have no problem at all with Harry's curiosity.

"Well... Did you ever walk in on someone having sex?"

"Ugh, yeah, there was this one time I walked in on Bill and his former girlfriend...wait, you mean you saw Snape having sex with someone? _Snape_? With whom?"

"Another man." Hermione and Ron stared at him.

"I couldn't see the other person's face, but it was definitely a bloke. And much younger, too. But there was this weird mist everywhere, so I couldn't see clearly."

"A man? Snape's gay?" Ron started laughing. "I knew it!"

Harry indicated him to lower his voice again. "Shush, nobody needs to know about that... If Snape finds out that I know...I'm dead."

Hermione though was frowning at him. "Did you notice anything else that was different from a normal memory?"

"Now that you mention it... The forms of all things... they were somehow slightly shifting. And the room seemed to become bigger over time."

Hermione sat there for a moment, as if lost in thoughts. Then suddenly, she jumped out of her chair and sprinted up into the girls' dormitory without further explanation.

After Hermione had left, Ron bent forward to make absolutely sure that nobody else could hear them and started whispering. "So...when we talk about sex here, what exactly did you see?"

When Hermione returned to the common room some time later, she found the two guys still absorbed in the discussion about the details. Ron's ears were very red, he looked disgusted but also curious and amused.

"I tell you, they were both definitely enjoying this... I mean if you'd have heard those noises...you could tell! They had a good time..." They both burst out laughing.

Hermione sat down next to them, a dusty old doorstopper in her lap. "I looked it up. I knew it."

When the boys obviously didn't understand what she was hinting at, she added: "The mist? The shifting contours and altering room size? Didn't you wonder what that might mean?"

"Yeah, well... yes?" With great effort, Harry and Ron tried to shift their focus back to a normal conversation. In spite of what he had just seen, Harry felt quite good right now, lightheaded and careless. He didn't have so much fun with Ron in weeks. What did he care about the mist?

"I looked it up, and I guessed right. It's all in here, 'The Complete Encyclopedia of Memorisation'." And she opened the book in her lap and turned a few pages. "There: 'A blurred or nebulous sight' – 'distortion of sizes and dimensions' – 'unsteady contours'. It's all here!"

"And what does it mean?" Harry finally asked, without really wanting to know.

"It's a fantasy! You saw one of Snape's fantasies!"

Ron seemed disappointed. "You're sure? Just a fantasy?"

"Quite sure, actually. But in my opinion, that's even worse... I mean, it could be anybody. The guy he is fantasizing about could be a student."

"Whoa – imagine that, if Snape's fancying you..." Ron shuddered. He looked fascinated and disgusted at the same time.

But Hermione turned back to Harry. "Did you notice anything familiar about the young man – skin color, his hair?"

Harry answered only hesitatingly. "He was white, fair skin. Black-haired. His hair was a bit wavy, I guess about the same length as mine...oh no, I see what you're getting at! No way!"

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them while the discussion got heated up.

"Why not? I think it's quite likely. He spent so much time with you these last few weeks, and he fancied your mom, and he detests you – which means he already has very strong feelings about you."

"But I would never - "

"But it doesn't count what you _would_ do! It's his fantasy, he can make you do whatever he wants."

Harry stood up and started pacing, alarmed. The other people in the common room were already staring at them. Ron lowered his voice. "Do you want to say...?"

Hermione answered in a scarcely audible whisper: "Yes. I think it's Harry in his fantasy. That makes perfect sense. Snape wanted to hide the daydream from Harry, he has strong feelings about him and the description fits, too."


	4. Chapter 4

The following night, Harry had a hard time getting to sleep. Images of what he had seen in the Pensieve now disturbed his thoughts and he wondered if Snape was somehow really fantasizing about him. He had never regarded the professor as a sexually active person. Now he wondered whether Snape had ever kissed or had had sex with his mother and whether this would make the whole story even more fucked up. As everybody had told him all his life, Harry _had_ Lily's eyes...

When he finally fell asleep, the nightmares came back worse than ever, only interrupted by flashbacks of Snape's youth he had seen the night of the Hogwarts battle. Harry had to throw up twice when he woke up early in the morning, and therefore Sunday flashed by in a lightheaded blur.

Hoping that because of their revived friendship, Ron would offer him some support in getting along with this, Harry was disappointed. Ron was only interested in talking about Snape's fantasy, and Harry finally was persuaded to take a closer look into the Pensieve on his next meeting with the potions master. He didn't feel very good about this idea, but also didn't want to lose Ron's attention. The plan included a diversionary tactic that Ron promised to work out spontaneously. Hermione wasn't in on the plan – she had refused to discuss the case any further. She regarded it as not advisable to dig any deeper into the matter.

In the night of Sunday to Monday, Harry decided to stay awake to avoid more bad dreams. He tried to do some research for his homework down in the common room but gave up working soon. In order not to accidentally fall asleep, he went for a walk through the castle under his invisibility cloak. He found that this, after all, was giving him some sort of relief, and though he felt very tired on Monday morning, he felt also less terrified and strained.

Concerning his meeting with Snape later this day, Harry had a bad feeling, though. Snape had told him on Friday that he would carry out some tests this week. In addition, he was afraid what Snape might say if he somehow found out what Harry had done – or if he would catch him with the Pensieve.

But despite his apprehension, the meeting went very smooth at first. Snape had prepared a special potion over the last week that was supposed to help Harry against the nightmares. Harry had to drink a bit of it and was told to stay in the office and try to get to sleep. Snape would leave him alone and check on him later to see if the potion had worked and if the dose was strong enough. He summoned a mattress for Harry on the floor, dimmed the lights and went away.

When Harry was alone, he quickly left the office to let the waiting Ron in on this new development. The latter promised to be on the lookout and to intervene if Snape returned too early.

And so, before he laid down on the mattress, Harry opened the cupboard and took out the Pensieve. His hands were shaking as he carried it over to the mat and sat down next to it. He looked into the lucent swirl, and suddenly, he felt very dizzy – obviously, the potion started to work. But after a few deep breaths, he finally dived into the silvery substance.

Again, he visited the misty fantasy, and the dream-office looked almost as it had done two days before. This time, it took Harry a few minutes to walk through the expanding office to the desk – he still felt very drowsy and the haze didn't help.

Only when he arrived in the middle of the room, Harry realized that the scenery had changed: Snape and the young man were lying on a mattress now, similar to the one that Snape had summoned for Harry before, and the professor was giving the younger man head.

It was undeniable now: As Harry looked down at the young man, he looked into his own face.

Dream-Harry was squirming with lust. Shocked, the real Harry watched as the young man's orgasm seemed to approach while Snape continued to suck him off. Dream-Harry panted and moaned and Harry realized that never before (in his real life) anything comparable had ever happened to him. He had never experienced any sexual activity that was as intense as this seemed to be. This was even more shocking – he felt jealous of his other self as much as he felt sick about it. Dream-Harry's face contorted with delight and a profound sensation of peace spread across his face. And suddenly, all went very dark, and Harry was slipping away...

The next thing he knew was that he was lying on the floor, his head pressed against something hard. With great effort, he struggled to sit up and found that his head had been lying pressed against the edge of the Pensieve. He must have fallen asleep while he had watched the fantasy. With a start, he turned to look around in the office . He spotted a figure sitting in the shadows behind the desk. He felt like his heart was missing a beat. Shakily, he stumbled to his feet, only to look directly into the transfixed face of Severus Snape.

"Good morning, Mr Potter." Snape lit the torches with his wand. His voice was cold. "Better take a seat, you've just taken a strong potion and still need time to recover from its effects."

Harry did as he was told and stumbled to a chair next to the desk, his heart racing. Before he could help it, Snape had locked his gaze on his, and forced his way into Harry's mind.

He searched through Harry's thoughts, until he found his first trip into Snape's fantasy on Saturday, his conversation with Ron and Hermione afterwards, his terrible dreams Saturday night and his trip into the Pensieve today.

At the point where Harry had recognized himself on the mattress with Snape, the potions master withdrew from his mind and closed his eyes. Harry, still dizzy, struggled to focus on the here and now while he anxiously watched Snape's reaction to what he had just seen.

But Snape showed no reaction at all. He just opened his eyes and continued talking evenly. "Just for your knowledge, Mr Weasley is currently in detention with Mr Filch. Tell your friend to stay away from my office from now on. He destroyed a valuable statue in a feeble attempt to distract me from returning to my office while you were supposed to be testing the effects of the potion. I won't allow any of this nonsense to happen again."

Harry swallowed.

"Did you have any nightmares while you were asleep?"

Harry choked on his words, and finally stammered: "N-no, I guess not."

"Did you dream at all?"

"No."

"Alright. Take that flask with you." He indicated to the potion still standing on his desk.

"Take a double dose of it twenty minutes before you go to bed, let's say half a cup for six hours of sleep. In there is enough potion for the rest of the week. It won't solve the problem but will give you some rest while we work out a solution. And it's not as strong as a normal Dreamless Sleep Potion, which is highly addictive if taken over a longer period of time and has way too many side-effects. If you feel drowsy in the mornings, tell me - and write down your dreams, if you have any. We'll meet again on Friday. You may go."


	5. Chapter 5

"So he didn't even shout at you?"

"I just told you, he was completely calm, as if he didn't care at all."

"That bloke's a psycho...well, he must be, obviously, if he's in love with _you_..." Ron burst out laughing. They were sitting together in the common room that same night, and despite the fact that he had spent the last two hours cleaning toilets with the caretaker, Ron seemed to find it all still very funny.

"Stop saying stuff like that in front of me! He will see it all in my head, you know, all that you say, all I say..."

"Serves you right, if you would have listened to my advice, you still wouldn't know if it was you in that fantasy." Hermione had refused to join their conversation and was pretending to read a book, but continued to frown at both of them, affronted by what they had done.

"I wouldn't have taken a closer look at all if you hadn't told me that it could be me in the first place! Can you imagine how it feels, watching yourself doing this...this stuff with _him_?"

"Ugh, that's so gross...what did you say again that you two were doing in that dream?" Ron looked like he wasn't quite sure if he really wanted to hear, but was curious all the same.

"I didn't tell you – and I don't want to talk about it, OK? I already had to watch it once. I have no motivation at all to recount it."

But that wasn't completely the truth. Harry couldn't get out of his mind what he had seen – the way Snape's fingers had dug into Dream-Harry's hips, the young man's aroused expression, the peaceful smile he had had on his face afterwards – a peace that Harry himself had never experienced. He had looked so free, so lighthearted.

And the way Snape had not reacted to any of it after he had found out. Was his punishment to be expected later? Or did Snape just not care at all that Harry had found out? How could he have such fantasies and not care?

The next few days went by without further incidents. Harry was able to get some rest for the first time in weeks thanks to the potion Snape had brewed for him. In his potion lessons and between classes, the professor ignored Harry completely.

But the meeting with Snape on Friday was still on and Harry wasn't sure what to expect. If maybe some form of punishment was waiting for him or if Snape would search his mind more thoroughly.

It was this that Harry feared the most – he didn't want Snape to know about his mixed emotions concerning the fantasy – he himself did not fully understand why he couldn't stop thinking about it. He was sure that he would have dreamed about it if it weren't for the potion. He even caught himself at having short daydreams in which he slipped into Dream-Harry's role...

On Thursday evening, Harry was just about to finish an especially long essay for Transfiguration in the common room while Hermione was absorbed in a book she considered 'a little light reading'.

Ron and Ginny were out for Quidditch training as usual. Jimmy Peakes had been nominated as new captain last year and it had felt right for Harry to retire. He missed the training but was happy to have a break from the whole school's attention for once.

The portrait hole opened as the team members returned. Harry looked up and saw Ginny rushing straight towards him. She looked furious.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That stuff about Snape! Why do I have to learn about it from my brother, not you?"

Ron dropped into a chair next to Harry, a guilty look on his face. "Sorry, mate, I couldn't help it."

But Harry only looked at Ginny. "Could you please lower your voice a bit, I don't want everyone to know. And why are you making such a fuss about it, it's got nothing to do with us!"

Begrudgingly, Ginny lowered her voice a bit. "It has a lot to do with us! You're not telling me anything anymore lately!"

"Since when do you care? It's not that I didn't try to tell you stuff, but you stopped listening to me weeks ago. Obviously, I'm not as interesting as _Michael Corner_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'm not stupid!"

Ginny looked at him intently for a while. She seemed to force herself to calm down.

"You shouldn't go back," she finally said in a surprisingly even voice.

"Back? To Snape? But I have to! He still didn't find out -"

Ginny exploded. "You don't seriously want to spend any more time in that office with him now, do you? That would be...it's just awkward. Or do you enjoy being adored so much?"

"He's the only one who can help me! What else am I supposed to do? You really think I like it? Maybe you didn't realize, but I do have a serious problem."

"Oh, I realized that quite some time ago, thank you. You know what? Do what you want. You always do, anyway." And with these words, she stomped off towards the dormitory.


	6. Chapter 6

"Sit down, Potter."

It was Friday, and Harry was standing in Snape's office again. After the fight with Ginny the day before, he was still agitated, and the events of the past few weeks had left a restlessness in his heart that was hard to shake.

Harry sat down in front of Snape's desk.

"How was your week? Did you experience any dreams or nightmares? Abnormalities, side effects possibly?"

"No, Sir. No dreams at all. And...nothing unusual." Harry had to force himself to say so. He wasn't sure how much of his state was obvious to Snape, how much he could tell by just looking at Harry. He seemed to have a sixth sense for that.

Snape went on without any indication of what he knew or not knew.

"Good. So hopefully, you could recover and gain back some of your strength over the past few days. As I told you, the potion is no solution for the problem itself. I've done some extended research over the last two weeks and I think I could narrow down what we are dealing with here. Imagine it like a viral infection: The moment the Horcrux was separated from you and destroyed, it infiltrated your soul with some of its evil power in a last struggle against its fate. I believe that the seat of this disease is hidden very deep within your mind, beyond your subconscious. The only way to free you from it is to infiltrate you again and destroy it. If not extinguished, it will become stronger and more dangerous over time, possibly even dangerous to life. There are no references that we can count on here, so there is no time to be lost."

At least now he knew. He was branded. Maculate. What was going to happen to him?

"It is no easy thing to do, but it is possible to destroy it. There is one safe way to reach beyond a person's subconscious that deeply. I witnessed an old professor of mine using this method years ago. A deep connection between the patient and the performer is inevitable. This requires peace of mind - and therefore, serious trust. Which is why I wanted you to gain some strength beforehand." He hesitated for just a second. "And also, why I didn't want you to see what you witnessed in the Pensieve."

Harry blushed.

"Now, Potter, this is vital: You have to let go of what you saw on Monday. It mustn't bother you. If it affects in any way how you feel about me, how much you can trust me, this will either reject me before I can get deep enough, or cause serious harm to your mind during the process. This is no normal form of Legilimency. We're talking about superior magic here. This is risky if not handled with great care."

That sent cold shivers down Harry's spine.

"If you are not in the condition to do this with me, you _must_ tell me. There are very few people who are able to perform this kind of magic, so if you cannot fully trust me, we will probably have to find a different solution. This might take some time, and we don't have much. But we can't afford to take any risks here."

He looked at Harry intently.

"Now, I ask you to search your soul, and try to find an honest answer: Can you trust me as much as to let me into the depths of your subconscious?"

Snape stopped talking and just looked at him expectantly. Harry didn't like any of this. 'Serious harm,' that didn't sound good. He averted his gaze, Snape staring at him made him slightly uncomfortable, and he couldn't quite concentrate.

Did he trust the man? Yes, they had always loathed each other, just like his father and Snape had. At least, that was what Harry had thought.

Then there was everything he had seen in the Pensieve the night of Voldemort's death. Snape had loved Lily, and he had sacrificed his life for the greater good, to make up for his terrible mistake.

And then there was what Harry had seen just a few days ago. But somehow (and that was obviously something neither Ginny nor Ron could understand), it didn't scare him. Never since he had visited Snape's Pensieve, had he really considered staying away from the man. He knew that if anyone could help him, it was Snape.

He looked back into the older man's eyes. "I trust you." Snape held his gaze for a long time.

"Now that this is settled, I will explain further what will happen next. I will administer a light hypnosis potion to you, that will allow you to open your mind more easily. Eye contact and physical touch are necessary. I will lean my forehead against yours, then we will make the connection. You will quite likely experience some kind of dream – but what you will hear or see, I don't know. Probably a muted, metaphoric version of what is going on. Your mind will take care of this to protect you. If you are scared or feel pain, try to keep in mind that what you see is only happening in your imagination."

With these words, Snape stood up and collected a flask from a nearby shelf. He opened it and gave it to Harry. "Drink this now. I will lock the door and perform a silencing charm – it is crucial that we won't be disturbed during the procedure."

A few minutes later, Harry leaned back in a comfortable chair in a corner of the room. Snape dimmed the lights and then stood before Harry. Seeing that the latter was rather tense, he forced a half-smile. It was probably the first time ever that Harry saw Snape smile.

"Now, don't be afraid," he said in an unusually gentle voice.

He lifted his wand and started performing an incantation in a language Harry didn't understand. The potion had made him drowsy, and yet; he could sense something being stirred, something _awakening_ inside him. That was rather unsettling.

Then Snape bent down and leaned his forehead against his. Harry's skin tingled at the touch.

Snape propped his hands on Harry's shoulders, and the younger felt his head being pressed against the backrest when Snape shifted more of his weight onto him. Harry's breath caught in his throat.

Snape connected their eyes and restarted the incantation. Harry felt Snape's breath on his face as he slowly started to drift away from it and from the room...

_It was raining heavily. The sky was overcast, and Harry could see no sun. A merciless cold got hold of him. He was lying on the ground in the middle of a vast rapeseed field. Harry got to his feet and looked around._

_In the distance, he could see an endless dark forest at the foot of a mountain. His clothes already soaking wet, Harry started running towards the mountain._

_He ran and ran for what seemed like hours until he merely stumbled along through the mud. The rain blurred his sight._

_As he came closer to the edge of the field, something half way up the mountain attracted his gaze. A cave. It seemed to lead down into the unknown, into total darkness._

_Harry stopped. A fear hit him, hit him so hard that he started to back away until he was running again, running away from it._

_Suddenly, his scar hurt as if someone had pierced his head with a knife. He stumbled._

_Then he crashed into something. He looked up and there was Severus Snape, wearing snow-white robes. He seemed to be immune to the rain and the darkness. Snape touched Harry's shoulder. Harry felt his fear and pain melt away._

_Their eyes locked for a moment. Harry wanted to say something but no words left his mouth. He watched as Snape moved away from him, towards the mountain._

_Harry wanted to hold him back - but he remained motionless. He watched as the older man slowly made his way up to the cave._

_Minutes seemed like hours, passing in the bat of an eye._

_A clash of lightning struck the sky as Snape finally walked through the entrance of the cave and vanished from sight._

_That very moment, Harry's body began to shake, and he felt an enormous pain in his head that nearly knocked him out. He heard cries, almost musical, like countless voices uniting to an inhuman, terrifying choir. They were screaming melodically in his head, screams of terror, of agony and hate. Harry collapsed, blood draining from his ears._

_Then he heard the voice of Lord Voldemort on top of it all, resounding down in the heart of the mountain. The shrillness of his voice was exactly as he remembered it._

_"I will kill him. Slowly, painfully, he will die from the inside out. You won't stop me – you will never stop me!"_

_"YOU WON'T HURT HIM ANYMORE!" Snape's voice slid through the noise like a glowing sword._

_And Harry felt profound fear, not only for himself but also for Snape who was up there fighting for him. He would die. He knew it, they both would die. He started to scream, and his cries mixed with those of the merciless choir, and the sounds of the battle in the cave..._

_And then, there was only blackness and silence. A deafening silence. Was he dead?_

With a start, Harry woke up as if he had been drowning and was just now coming up to the surface to gasp for air. Snape was pressed against his body, their gaze still linked. Both men were panting and sweating. Minutes seemed to pass by. Harry slowly came to. Then the realization hit him that it must be over – and a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders. He felt an overwhelming gratitude building in his chest.

He had saved him. Snape had saved him.

And without thinking, without deciding to do so or reasoning about it, Harry pressed his lips against Snape's.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry's lips were pressed to Snape's for hardly more than a few seconds. The potions master did not move, neither to reject nor to return the kiss.

Slowly, Harry detached his lips from Snape's. They looked into each other's eyes. Then Snape backed away slightly as if only realizing what had just happened. He tried to regain his balance and took his hands off Harry's shoulders. Harry reached out to grab the collar of Snape's cloak to pull him back down.

"No," Snape said. "This is no good." He tried to get out of Harry's grip.

"Stay," Harry mouthed.

"Potter, you're -"

But Harry didn't let him finish but pulled him back down. He kissed him again, and this time, he wasn't just pressing together their lips. Harry opened his mouth, teasing Snape's bottom lip. Snape closed his eyes, hesitated. Then parted his lips. It was like electricity when their tongues finally met.

Snape broke the kiss after just a few seconds.

"You're exhausted and you're confused..."

Harry touched the older man's face and tried to kiss him again. But Snape wouldn't let him.

"You'll regret this," Snape said.

Harry held his gaze. "I want to feel what he felt."

Snape looked at him questioningly.

"He... _me_ , in the fantasy," Harry explained.

Snape shook his head.

"I want to feel something... I want you to make me -" His voice trailed off. "I want _you_ to do that to me," he finally said.

Snape was clearly torn.

"Please..." Harry's voice was low with longing. And finally, that broke through Snape's defenses.

The potions master kissed him and pressed their bodies back together. Harry had never been kissed like that before. His head was spinning as Snape demanded his lips, touched their tongues together rhythmically in a wicked dance, dived into him. As if he wanted all of it, all that Harry was, all that Harry had to offer.

And Harry was ready to give him everything.

Never letting go of his lips for long, Snape started to open Harry's cloak and undid the buttons of his shirt. Snape's hands on his bare skin felt like fire and sent little shocks up and down his body.

Snape touched his lips to Harry's throat and neck and chest. He kissed and licked his way down to his waistband. There, he looked up at Harry and his eyes... His eyes were so dark with lust, so full of the wisdom of a painful and lonely life.

Harry watched as the older man's hand found the bulge in his trousers. Harry moaned at the touch. Snape gasped, surprised at how hard Harry was. This seemed to do something to him, seemed to free Snape from his last doubts.

He looked up at Harry again while he opened his belt and freed him from his trousers and pants. Then he took a few steps back. Harry's hard cock twitched when Snape looked him up and down.

Snape started to undress himself.

Harry watched. The skin beneath Snape's clothes was like alabaster. He was lean but fit, and it reminded Harry of one of those Greek marble statues. Harry allowed himself to look down at the man's erect cock. He gasped at the sight.

Harry shed his shirt and got to his feet, and for a moment, they just stood, looking at each other. Then Snape closed the distance between them. He touched Harry's cheek, stroking it softly, and he slowly let his hand wander down over his chest, abdomen and then he touched his cock, and Harry thought he might explode. Snape started stroking him, watching his every reaction, taking it all in.

Harry couldn't hold back the moans, and he couldn't stop looking into those eyes.

When he was close, Snape stopped. He maneuvered them towards the wall and captured the younger man in another kiss. His hand wandered down Harry's back and vanished between his cheeks.

Harry felt a hot desire building in his chest when Snape touched his entrance. Snape whispered an incantation that made his fingers become moist. Slowly he started to work Harry open. Their groins pressed together, Harry groaned into the kiss. This felt so strange and yet, he couldn't wait to get more of that.

As if he'd guessed his thoughts, Snape added a second finger. His other hand resumed to stroke Harry's cock.

Harry's gasps became more restless, his fingers digging into the older man's hips.

"Do it," he sighed when Snape started to fuck him harder with his fingers. Harry was about to lose it.

"Do it!" he pleaded again. Snape pulled out his fingers. He locked eyes with Harry as if to make sure, then he turned him around and Harry was pushed back against the wall. He was shivering with anticipation. He felt Snape's hot mouth on his neck, and then his hard cock lining up behind him. The older man entered him cautiously, and Harry lost his breath. He was spread open and it was just so intense. Snape was shaking, too, Harry realized, trying to contain himself.

Slowly, he started moving. It was almost too much for Harry. He tried to get a grip and adjust to the feeling.

Then Snape slightly changed his angle - and suddenly, Harry was on fire. An unknown sensation spread through his body as Snape hit his prostate.

"Fuck," was all he could manage. Snape hit the spot again and again, and Harry started to move his hips to welcome Snape's thrusts.

When Snape realized how much the younger man was enjoying this, he started to pick up speed. Both panting and sweating, they got into a steady rhythm. Harry lost himself in the sensation.

He was smashed against the wall again and again, and then he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold it back any longer, that he was about to come.

Snape's cock inside him got even harder - he was close, too. That thought pushed Harry over the edge.

He climaxed, and only seconds later, Snape followed. Snape sank back against him and Harry felt the man's heavy panting in his neck.

For a while, they both just stood there, pressed together, catching their breath.

Then their breathing went back to normal, and the silence between them started to get louder and louder.

Snape drew a deep breath as if he was about to say something - but then a knock at the door finally broke the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, they mean a lot to me! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter as much! I'll do my best to finish the first part of the series before Christmas - stay tuned.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! This took me a bit longer than I thought, as I wanted the story to take a new turn. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter (as far as possible).

****"Severus, open the door!” It was McGonagall’s voice.

Harry and Snape stared at the door. It knocked again.

“Didn't you perform a Silencing Charm?” Harry mouthed.

“I must've let go too much,” Snape whispered back. He struggled to get his clothes back on. “The bedroom. Hurry!”

Harry quickly gathered his clothes, left for the back room and closed the door behind himself. He stood there, between high piles of dusty old books and magazines, and listened hard. For a long moment, there was only silence. Then it knocked again.

Snape seemed to have opened the door, as Harry could suddenly hear two voices talking. He pressed his ear closer to the door.

“What happened in here?” Harry couldn’t remember having ever heard the Headmistress so angry.

“What do you mean?” Snape’s voice was very neutral. A bit too neutral.

“Severus...you know the rules.” McGonagall seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Students here are protected. You surely must have known that we have charms in place to detect…” Her voice trailed off.

There was a long silence.

“Who was it?” she finally asked.

“Minerva…”

“I can simply read the recorded memory created by the charm if you’d prefer that.”

Harry’s mind started racing. There was some kind of recording of what they had just done?

“I guarantee you, it was consensual,” Snape said slowly.

“Even if they’re of age - they’re teenagers. They’re still children!” McGonagall seemed close to losing it.

There was a long pause.

“Severus...who was it?” It was an order.

Snape sighed. “Harry Potter.”

Harry felt his face heating up. His heart was beating so hard in his throat, he was afraid McGonagall might hear it.

There was a pause. Then, suddenly -- a loud SLAP!

McGonagall must have hit Snape.

“Do you know what this boy went through? I can’t believe-- why would you…? That YOU of all people would do such a thing.” She seemed to be barely able to contain herself.

Harry felt like he had been slapped, too.

Realizing that he was basically still half naked, Harry hurried to put his clothes on while at the same time trying to make no sound and listening in on what was being said.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave,” McGonagall said finally.

Harry almost stumbled over his pants. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“Yes. Of course,” Snape only replied.

“We will say you retired from teaching because of research for a book or some kind of job offer. Make something up. I will contact Horace. I guess the man will never get his well-deserved retirement.”

Snape was being fired?

Harry thought about it for half a second. But before he could make any kind of conscious decision about whether it was a good idea or not, he buttoned up his trousers and opened the door.

“You can’t just fire him - after what he has done for all of us, and for me--”

“Mr Potter!” She was shocked only for a moment. Then her expression turned painful. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Harry knew he was blushing. Her eyes focused on his neck for a moment too long. A love bite, probably.

“Just because I…” Harry trailed off.

“I will not tolerate this in my school!”

“He didn’t force me to do anything, I wanted this!” Harry was screaming now, too.

“You are not in any state to make such decisions. As I recall, you are suffering from a condition that made you very unstable. And after all you’ve been through... Harry, I know you are vulnerable right now, and your friends can’t possibly understand what you are going through… You must be very confused. And if he is using your confusion to take advantage, for his own satisfaction--”

“I will resign.” Snape’s voice was perfectly calm as if he didn’t care at all. His face was still reddened where McGonagall had hit him.

Harry looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t, you didn’t do anything wrong, you--”

“I _will_ resign.” And with those words, Snape headed towards the door. He opened it, then hesitated. Without turning around, he said: “I’ll be gone by tomorrow morning.”

When he had left, a very unsettling silence seemed to fall upon them. McGonagall didn’t seem to be able to look at Harry.

“I suggest you go back to your common room. We will talk about this tomorrow.” Then she left as well.

Harry went slowly back into the bedroom to get his remaining clothes, then into the on-suite bathroom. He watched his face in the mirror for a long time. Then he pulled out his wand to remove the love bite.

 

* * *

 

Harry couldn't sleep that night. While he listened to Ron's loud snoring, his mind switched back and forth, reliving all the things that had happened today: the cruel vision; how he had kissed Snape, the man's body pressed against his; McGonagall’s words. _He is using your confusion for his own satisfaction._

And Snape being fired. Snape leaving. _I’ll be gone by tomorrow morning._

And as if the day hadn't been full enough already, Ginny had waited for him in the Common Room; she had apologized for what she had said; had told him that she loved him still and that she wanted it to work.

Harry had said almost nothing – and Ginny hadn't asked for much. In his exhaustion and confusion, her love had felt good and sweet, and had comforted him.

But it hadn’t lasted very long. By the time the sun was rising, Harry felt exhausted, more than he ever recalled to be - but he had also formed a plan. He would go and see McGonagall first thing, and he would convince her to let Snape stay.

 


	9. Chapter 9

It had been difficult for Harry to decide whether he should go to see McGonagall first - or whether he should try to talk to Snape.

The truth was - he wasn’t sure what he would say to Snape. And that was probably the reason why he hadn’t stayed in Snape’s office to wait for his return in the first place.

Harry had never been a coward. But this was different. He didn’t really know why he wanted Snape to stay. The only thing he knew was that it felt painfully wrong for him to leave.

Maybe it was because Snape was one of the very few people who had been as deeply involved in the war as Harry. Or that Severus had been so close to Dumbledore.

There were still so many unanswered questions.

And maybe Harry was overreacting - but something told him that Snape was about to get as far away from Hogwarts and him as humanly possible.

Somewhere deep inside, though, Harry knew that there was more to it. That yesterday - with all its events - had changed things fundamentally. But Harry was by no means ready to acknowledge or analyze any of it. There was a thunderstorm raging in his heart that Harry tried very hard to ignore.

 

* * *

 

McGonagall wasn’t happy when Harry woke her up at half past 6 in the morning. She was wearing a dressing gown, her hair was a mess - and her face creased in a deep frown.

“Mr Potter.”

“Professor McGonagall. I’m sorry to bother you this early. But we need to talk about Professor Snape--”

“And we will. But this is hardly the time and place for it.”

“You don’t understand. He mustn’t leave. I don’t want him to leave. If you’d just listen to me I promise you I can explain everything. But you need to talk to him before he is gone.”

“Mr Potter. First of all, there is no room for discussions. This is my decision, my decision only, and it doesn’t make any difference to me who violates the rules and why. Whoever does such a thing will be let go. After all Severus has done before and during the war, I gave him the chance for an easy way out, and he took it. You will have to learn to accept that. Secondly, even if I would change my mind, and I won’t, it is already too late. Severus left us just before midnight.”

 

* * *

 

Harry was sitting at breakfast, stuck between Ron, who was bantering back and forth with Hermione about one of their usual subjects, and Ginny, who seemed to be trying to make up for all the conversations they had missed out on during the last few weeks at once by talking without coming up for air.

Harry didn’t eat. All he could do was staring at Snape’s empty place.

The doors of the Great Hall opened. For one wild moment, Harry thought Snape would come striding through - just like he had done weeks ago.

But no. Professor Slughorn had just arrived.

While he slowly made his way up towards the teachers’ table, a whispering went through the hall. Why was Slughorn here? Heads turned to Snape’s usual place, only to find it empty. The students didn’t seem to know what to make of it while none of the teachers seemed surprised.

McGonagall stood up to greet Slughorn. Then she addressed the students.

“Professor Slughorn has thankfully agreed to help us out again. Professor Snape had to leave us yesterday to take on a short notice job offer abroad. We are very sorry to lose him but as I understand it is an opportunity one couldn’t refuse.”

Some of the younger students seemed quite happy and relieved about this news. A group of first-year Hufflepuffs actually started cheering. Snape was apparently still as popular with his students as he had always been.

“That’s a bit odd,” Hermione pointed out. “Why would he suddenly go away?”

“I think it’s amazing.” Ron leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “Means I might get my N.E.W.T. in Potions after all.”

Hermione addressed Harry. “You’ve been with him yesterday, haven’t you? Did he say anything--”

Harry looked at her. Before he could answer, Malfoy over at the Slytherin table stood up and addressed McGonagall.

“He didn’t tell me anything about it. I just talked to him yesterday morning. He wouldn’t just go without saying goodbye.” He stared at her questioningly.

Some students at the Ravenclaw table started snickering.

Draco turned towards them angrily, then faced McGonagall again.

“Mr Malfoy, I am sure you can write to your godfather and he will explain it all to you. It was his personal decision and I won’t go into any more details--”

“No. He didn’t just leave.” Harry stood up, too.

“Mr Potter…” McGonagall said warningly.

“No!” Harry was shouting now. “I won’t accept that. It’s a lie. You sent him away. You fired him - for nothing!”

Surprised, Draco turned to face him. “What?”

Harry glanced at Draco quickly but then turned back to McGonagall.

McGonagall didn’t say anything for a while. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Then the students started murmuring amongst themselves.

“Yes. I let him go. Do you want me to fill the rest of the school in on the reason why I did that?”

Harry just stared at her for a moment. Then Hermione addressed him.

“Harry, what’s going on here? What happened?”

Harry looked at Hermione, at the frown on Ron’s face, into Ginny’s worried and tender eyes. Suddenly, every face in the Great Hall was fixated on him.

Harry struggled to get out of his seat and stormed out of the hall. What did he think? He was making it all much worse. He needed to come up with some kind of excuse... But first, he needed to find Snape. The only problem was, he had no idea where Snape could be. He knew that he must have a place where he lived during holidays, a house of some sort. But where?

An idea hit him, and he started to run, out onto the grounds and towards the gates.

As soon as he was outside of Hogwarts’ grounds, he turned on the spot.


	10. Chapter 10

A strong grip on his left arm and Harry was pulled back before he could apparate. He stumbled, almost falling to the ground. When he turned around, Malfoy was staring at him, his iron grip still on Harry's arm.

"What the hell is going on here, Potter?" Malfoy's eyes were glowing and he was out of breath from running.

Harry tried to shake off Malfoy's hand. "Let go of me. I don't have time-"

"You're not going anywhere! Where's Severus? And why did he get fired?"

Harry freed himself from Malfoy's grip and was about to apparate when a thought hit him. Maybe it was a good thing that Malfoy had followed him out of the Great Hall...

"You have to help me. I need to find him."

Draco examined him for a while. "How come _you_ suddenly care so much about him?"

After all these years of animosity, how was Harry supposed to gain Malfoy's trust? He had to try. Draco probably knew where Snape lived, and if Harry could only make clear to him how serious this was...

Harry tried to look directly into Malfoy's eyes. "Please. He'll be gone if we don't hurry. You need to convince him to stay."

"Gone? Potter, what the fuck happened?"

Harry blushed but forced himself not to look away. "Snape is leaving...probably for good this time."

"Why - what did you do?"

Instead of answering, Harry just closed his eyes, overcome by guilt. Now was not the right time for lengthy explanations. And Malfoy mustn't know, or he would never help him.

Harry opened his eyes. Malfoy was still staring at him, demanding an answer.

"We don't have the time to discuss this now if we want to keep him from leaving. I'll explain it on the way. Are you going to help me now or not?"

Draco held his gaze. The moment felt like an eternity to Harry. Finally, Draco turned away from him and looked back up towards the castle while trying to keep his voice neutral. "What do you need me to do?"

 

* * *

 

The door to Severus Snape's house was unlocked. That couldn't be a good sign.

Harry and Malfoy went in, side by side, wands drawn. A dark, uninviting hallway, leading to one room, then another, then another. Greasy floors, the walls and surfaces covered in books, magazines, newspapers - and dust, the old-fashioned furniture hardly visible beneath it. All curtains closed.

It was not a pleasant place; it had a strange smell to it, probably coming from the laboratory in the cellar, though that seemed to be the only clean room in the house. Maybe some ingredients had gone bad. Maybe it was just this sombre feeling that came with the house, and the flashes of Snape's memories that popped into Harry's head at every turn.

Two things were clear very quickly: Snape had been here today - and he had already set off again.

The teapot was still warm, and according to Malfoy, some of his more personal belongings were gone - certain books, a few photographs and a variety of magical items.

Harry felt utterly helpless. At least, Draco seemed to fully believe him now that this was serious, and their mutual desperation and helplessness felt oddly comforting.

In silence, they walked out into the little overgrown back garden and Draco retrieved a pack of Muggle cigarettes from his pocket. Harry just stared at him.

"One of the few things Muggles got right," Malfoy said nonchalantly. "Want one?"

Harry looked at him and at the cigarettes. "Yeah, why not." Harry's voice was brittle and his hand shaking as he accepted the cigarette. He needed to think of something. This couldn't be it. It just couldn't.

Draco lit their cigarettes with his wand, then took a drag. "Will you tell me now what happened?"

Draco was calm, almost friendly. He would certainly not be friendly anymore if he knew the whole truth.

Harry started coughing. This was his first cigarette in a long while. "You already know. Snape got fired."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"What happened between the two of you?" Malfoy turned around to face him. "I know you've met with him a couple of times because of some kind of issue you had...he wouldn't quite tell me."

Harry avoided Malfoy's gaze. "He just helped me...with a problem."

"And he got fired for that." Draco stubbed out his cigarette.

"Not exactly." Harry didn't really know what else to say. Part of him wanted to tell someone, quite desperately. Another part told him that this was a very bad idea.

"Why did McGonagall let him go?"

Malfoy would probably punch him. In the face. Maybe that was what Harry needed right now. What he deserved.

Malfoy stood up. "I demand an explanation. Now."

Harry sat still, taking a drag.

"Hogwarts was his home. Why would he just leave? Without a word. He would never just leave without at least telling me. He would never-" Malfoy teared up with anger as his voice steadily rose. "I have a fucking _right_ to know what happened!"

Harry stood up, too. His pulse was quickening.

Malfoy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "What - the fuck - happened?"

When Harry didn't reply, Draco pushed him to the ground. Harry fell, his coat sliding upwards, and several coins flew out of his pocket, scattered all around him on the ground. Harry landed quite hard on his side. He expected a blow or a kick, at least a tirade of ranting and swearing. But when nothing happened, he dared to look back up again. Malfoy was standing above him, his arms still stretched out, staring at Harry's Knuts and Sickles on the floor.

"Gringotts," he said.

Harry looked up at him questioningly. "What?"

"Gringotts!" Malfoy repeated. "He wouldn't have been able to empty out his vault, yet. He'll need money - and he has some valuable possessions down there - he wouldn't just leave those behind."

He looked at his watch.

"Gringotts just opened. If we hurry-" They shared a look.

Draco helped Harry up and together, they raced out of the village and outside Snape's apparition wards. As soon as they were sufficiently far away, Malfoy harshly grabbed Harry's arm and they turned on the spot.


	11. Chapter 11

_Muffled noises. Harry is falling, falling into the sound as it gets louder. Male voices, chatting and laughing._

* * *

Harry woke with a start. Disoriented, he looked around. He was surrounded by green fabric: emerald sheets with silver cushions, a green curtain guarding the comfortable four-poster bed he was lying on.

Where was he? It couldn’t be -

The curtain opened to reveal orange rays of the late afternoon sunlight. Harry closed his eyes, and his head suddenly felt like it was about to burst. Then something dropped onto the bed and the blinding light was gone. When Harry opened his eyes again, Draco Malfoy had climbed next to him onto the mattress. Harry felt dizzy. This was Malfoy’s bed. He had been sleeping in Malfoy’s _bed_. This didn’t make any sense.

“What the -”

“Sh!” Malfoy hissed and held up a hand to interrupt him. Then he quickly cast a Silencing Charm. “They will be gone for dinner soon, then you can get out unseen.”

Harry stared at him.

“You passed out. In Diagon Alley. I brought us back, thankfully everyone was at lunch so I could get you up here. Thought you probably would want to return on your own terms and without causing a spectacle, and the only place I could think of was...well, my bed.”

Slowly, the memories started creeping back.

* * *

_Gringotts. Harry is bolting up the steps to the entrance, Draco following in his wake. Just as Harry reaches the top of the stairs, the burnished bronze doors open and a tall figure in dark robes emerges from the entrance hall._

_Harry’s heart misses a beat. It’s him._

_Snape’s eyes widen. Unable to slow down, Harry crashes into the man and then stumbles backwards. Balancing on the topmost step for a moment, he is about to fall when Snape’s strong hands grab his cloak and pull him back up towards him._

_Snape’s face only inches apart from his, Harry stares into black eyes, unable to speak._

_Catching up with Harry, Malfoy reaches the doors as well and stops short, looking back and forth between the two men._

_As if burned, Snape lets go of Harry’s cloak. The puzzled expression on Draco’s face slowly melts away as truth finally dawns on him. Just for a moment, Snape’s eyes flicker to Malfoy._

_When they settle on the Gryffindor again, the agonizing fire within them seems to consume Harry._

_A pained expression darkens Snape’s features, and before Harry has the chance to speak, the man pushes past him and starts descending the white marble steps._

_At the bottom of the stairs, Severus turns around one last time. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice empty, defeated._

_Then Snape disapparates._

_Paralysed, Harry stares down at the street, and he is falling, falling down the stairs. Then darkness closes in on him._

* * *

“You fell down the stairs. I slowed your fall but I’m not good at healing bruises. You might have to take care of that yourself.”

The memory had hit Harry like a hammer. He tried to digest what had happened. He felt sick and tears were welling up in his eyes.

So this was it.

“Thank you. For bringing me back,” he said slowly, avoiding Draco’s gaze. Surely the Slytherin must’ve put two and two together by now. 

“Listen, Potter. This is really fucked up. I don’t know how this happened and I don’t think I really want to. But Severus… I care about him. He was the only person in my life that… Well, anyway. Whatever happened between the two of you… I won’t tell anyone about this.”

* * *

When Harry walked back up to Gryffindor Tower a short while later, he felt empty and more alone than he'd ever felt in his life.

And he made a vow: he would never allow himself to fall in love again.

 


	12. Chapter 12

9th of January 2002

Dear Severus,

 

I was debating whether to write to you again or not. But it’s your birthday today. And for the off-chance that you will open and read this … I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you today.

This is my seventh letter to you. I can’t believe it’s already three years since I left Hogwarts. It feels like no time has passed, and my life is still as stuck as it was when you left. I often wonder where you are now, and what you are doing. Whether you found a new place that you call home - as I know that Hogwarts was as much of a home to you as it was to me, and it’s not easy to replace. I’m still trying to figure that one out.

I live in a tiny flat now. Yes, I finally moved out of Grimmauld Place. It was either that or renovating, and I just couldn’t bring myself to make any changes to the rooms. Too many memories, good and bad. So I just left it as it is.

The best thing about my new flat is that it’s really small and shabby and therefore not very inviting - so people kind of stopped coming by all the time. Not even Ginny finds it in herself to stay over very often. I wonder whether I subconsciously chose a place so hostile and gloomy just to be more on my own. It was the first flat I found and I just took it. It’s a Muggle flat. You probably guessed as much.

While this will be my seventh unanswered letter to you, I’ve got a whole collection of those myself now - mostly from the Ministry, persistently trying to recruit me as an Auror as well as for various other office jobs, and even some made up position they call “Ambassador for Public Safety”, whatever that means. I keep those letters, I file them - sometimes look at them.

I guess a man needs a hobby.

What I do with the rest of my time? To be honest, not much. I sleep a lot. I used to work in the back garden but since I moved, the closest to a plant I have in my new place is the mould in the shower …

I have to make a change at some point, I know that. Ginny keeps nagging me every time I see her. She’s become a great Auror, as fierce and tough as she ever was. Ron is kind of annoyed that his little sister is climbing the ladder faster than he does but then again, his mind is elsewhere at the moment. Ron and Hermione just got twins. Everyone has moved on. And easily so.

It’s stupid but I keep on seeing you on the street, in random shops and the coffee place I go to every day. I know you are probably on the other side of the world right now. As far away as humanly possible. My mind keeps playing tricks on me. Or is it my heart?

As always, I don’t quite know how to end this letter. There are a lot of things that I would like to tell you but I guess you would just cringe and then stop opening my letters altogether - and I still like to believe you are actually reading them - so I’m not going to mess that up.

I hope you are ok, wherever you are. If you find it in yourself, send me a sign so I know you are alive and well.

Happy Birthday.

 

Yours,

_Harry_

 

* * *

 

2nd of May 2002

Dear Severus,

 

Four years today since it all ended. Another marathon of speeches, invitations to fundraisers, and war memorials has come to an end. The only time of the year that I’m actually really busy. Maybe it’s a good thing, I try to tell myself each year. Gets me out of the house, and for about two weeks, I have a social life.

The truth is, I could just say no to all these requests but I feel guilty, as if I owe people, as if I’m public property - and this is my duty.

So here I am, at the climax of this year’s war marathon. I’m in the Ministry, and I hand out these new shiny awards for humanitarian achievements to all types of amazing people that do all sorts of great things. And I can see the pity in their eyes when they look at me, pity for what I’ve become. Then I have to hold my speech. It’s the same as every year, just with a few tweaks here and there. And the only thing I can think of is: Why am I still here?

I don’t know when it started but it must have been in the first year after Hogwarts. Like a revelation, a sudden insight from deep within, that there is absolutely no reason for me to be still alive. If I would’ve died in the battle, maybe right at the end, people would be able to look up to me, to the memory of me, and it would give them strength. Even though I soldier through my duties each year since, I’m nothing but a disappointment for society. I contribute nothing. I do nothing. Everyone I loved is either dead, or gone, or they left me behind and I just can’t follow. In fact, I’m holding them back. Who am I trying to fool?

I wonder a lot why Ginny hasn’t left me, yet. She stopped talking about marriage about a year ago. I was relieved at first but maybe that’s just the beginning of the end. She deserves more.

I think I got so used to this way of living - of not speaking out on anything anymore, of keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself, living the life of a coward - that I was just too scared to consider other options. But I realized that at some point, I will have to make a Gryffindor kind of decision - one way or another, this needs to end.

I haven’t really decided on when to do it. I did do some research and I figured out what my options are. Did some shopping, and yes, some brewing. You’d be proud of me, I actually managed to mix together a decent potion. Admittedly, with the help of your old school book. Isn’t that ironic?

I thought I owe people to wait until after the war anniversary. I guess I’ll spend a few days in my old back garden at Grimmauld Place. Visit Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, see all my friends and family one last time. That’ll take a while. And then, I’ll just wait until I wake up one morning and feel like today is the day. It’s a very peaceful thought after all these years when I didn’t have any control over my life, that I finally have a say in how it will end, and when.

I never know how to end these letters. But today, I guess I have to find the right words, as this will be my last one. It’s probably really silly, and immature, and you won’t want to hear any of it. And I’m so inexperienced with all of this, too. I don’t think I ever had a proper relationship, even though it’s been years with Gin, it never felt right anymore since after the war.

I have a hard time figuring out what love actually is. But I know from the bottom of my heart that the closest I ever got to an answer was with you. These few moments we shared have burned themselves into my memory, and I can’t shake them.

For years, I tried to forget. But I still feel your lips on mine, I still feel a burning desire to touch you, smell you, kiss you, be desired by you. Be loved by you.

I don’t understand how it’s possible for me to still love you, for you to be everything. But you are. For what it’s worth, I want to thank you for that.

And I hope you found happiness, a new life, and, even though that thought hurts, maybe a new love wherever you are now. You certainly deserve it more than anyone else.

 

Yours always,

_Harry_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> finally, I'm able to continue my story - sorry for the long wait! I hope to post updates much more regularly from now on. Thank you for all your amazing comments and messages, it means so much to me.  
> It's going to continue to be a rollercoaster for Harry for a while - but please bear with me - there is always hope!  
> Best,  
> mallerina


	13. Chapter 13

Harry was lying on the bed. Tomorrow, he would visit Hogwarts one last time. He would see Hagrid, McGonagall, and some of the other teachers he had loosely stayed in touch with. Walk up to Hogsmeade, maybe have a butterbeer, for old times sake.

This visit was the last item on his list. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all, now that the weeks of preparation were finally coming to an end. 

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast - and that was 8 hours ago. Harry stood up. Time to stop mulling things over. Time for some chocolate. 

When he entered his living room to go to the kitchen, his heart almost stopped: 

Someone was standing in his living room. 

_ Severus _ was standing in his living room. There he was, in front of the fireplace, staring down into the fire, the flames bathing his face in warm light.

Harry took a few tentative steps towards him. “It’s really you. How--” 

Snape looked different somehow - whether it was the three-day beard or the absence of the color black in his clothing, Harry wasn’t sure. Snape in a midnight blue cloak - that was something else.

Severus slowly turned around. “You didn’t really leave me much of a choice with your last letter.”

When their eyes met for the first time in years, it felt like an electric shock. Harry realized he was shaking, not sure whether it was anger or surprise or both that made him tremble. He was cut to the heart. Why now? Why was Severus here  _ now _ , when Harry was so close to finally putting an end to all of this, when he had found a way out of his painful, empty life? 

But before he could say or do anything else, they were interrupted by the doorbell. 

Harry jumped again. He might just get a heart attack tonight. “I’m sure whoever it is will leave in a minute.”

The doorbell rang again, this time longer. 

Harry felt a headache coming on. He was still lost for words. But then he heard a familiar voice calling his name and a key turning in the lock. “That’s Ginny... I’m going to send her away. Hide in the bedroom - it’ll only be a minute.” With these words, Harry raced to the door. 

When Harry arrived in the hallway, Ginny was just coming through the door. 

“Hey, Gin, I didn’t expect you today… I, er, I was just about to go out.”

Ginny looked stunning in the brown trench coat she wore for work. Her red hair was long and wavy, and she looked so radiant that it was almost intimidating. 

“Oh, there you are. I’ve got some news - and I didn’t want to wait til family lunch on Sunday to tell you.” 

“I really have to go now, why don’t we just meet for, um, for dinner tomorrow?”

Ignoring his words, Ginny walked right past him into the living room. Harry followed hastily. Snape was nowhere to be seen. Harry knew he had to get this over with as soon as possible. 

Ginny slumped into her favorite chair, sighed and looked straight up to Harry. “It really can’t wait. I arranged for a little get-together tonight. We’re supposed to meet Hermione and Ron in half an hour in the Leaky. And Neville said he would join later, Luna might come along… and I invited a few of my friends and colleagues, too.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first? I really can’t tonight. What’s this all about anyway?”

“You’ll have to make time. I…  _ We _ have big news.”

Ginny stood up and put her hand protectively over her belly. “Three months, Harry.”

Harry stared at her.

“Remember the night we went to Bristol for that ministry function? And you got really drunk and we had to stay over? And that night...”   


Harry’s brain seemed not to be working properly. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? 

“I’m 14 weeks pregnant, Harry.” 

“You’re… “

“I was so busy with work, I didn’t even notice. Thought I had the flu… Turns out, it was not the flu.”

Harry walked over to the couch and sat down. All color had left his face. “14 weeks...”

“Are you alright? I thought that’s what you always wanted. What we wanted.”

Harry looked up at her. “I’m just -- surprised. I didn’t expect… I don’t know what to say.”

“I was quite surprised, too, but I think it’s good timing. I’m spending much more time in the office since my promotion, and with you still staying home and all... And my parents will help us, I’m sure they will.”

Ginny walked over to him, sat down next to him and put his hand on her belly. “I found out today that our baby is already as big as a peach now. Isn’t that incredible?” Ginny looked at him expectantly. 

“I -- I’ll need some time to let that sink in.”

“So are you coming along now? I thought it would be nice to tell all our friends at once. And we can tell my parents on Sunday - I think Charlie’s coming to visit this weekend, so everyone will be there.” 

Ginny stood up and tried to take Harry’s hand to pull him with her. Harry stood up but withdrew his hand. “I’ll meet you there.”

“But --”

“Give me a moment, will you? I… need to digest this. It’s… well, it really is big news.”

Ginny looked at him doubtfully. 

“I’ll be along shortly. Half an hour. Promise.”

As soon as Ginny was out of the door, Harry went back to the living room. He felt lost. What had just happened? Was he really going to be a father? Then he remembered Severus - who was still waiting for him - and who had probably overheard every word of their conversation.

Harry raced to the bedroom. 


End file.
